


Aftermath

by spaceMaverick



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Other, Trans Male Character, trans tord
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:30:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8758558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceMaverick/pseuds/spaceMaverick
Summary: Paul and Patryck attempt to take care of Tord after the explosion.





	

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa im sorry for projecting on the evil norwegian

Tord groaned when the light of his room was turned on, pulling the blanket over his eyes. He could hear heavy footsteps and recognized the familiar scent of Paul's cigarettes.

"It's time to get up, sir," Paul said. "We need to check your wounds."

Tord peeked out from under the blanket to see Patryck behind the scarred man. He hadn't heard him enter. He ducked back under and curled in on himself.

"Red Leader, get up. You'll reopen your wounds, sir," Patryck's softer voice made Tord shuffle out of his blankets and blink at his soldiers. Paul was standing straight, a slight frown on his face. He was missing his usual cigarette, probably to spare Tord the breathing problems. Patryck paced forward and leaned down a bit. "Great. Now, please stay still this time, alright?" Tord grunted and whipped off his shirt- almost like a band-aid- and ignored the small wave of dysphoria that came with it. He saw Paul instinctively look away.

"Just get it over with, Paul." Tord glared when the man flinched. "You should be used to this. Have you forgotten this much while I was gone?" Tord's voice was venomous, more of a hiss than a question.

Paul shifted. "Very sorry, sir." He opened a first aid kit and picked up a mysterious bottle. He took a step and reached out a tentative hand. Tord tensed as a cloth soaked in the liquid from the bottle was pressed to his back. He grit his teeth and tried to focus on the pain rather than his chest. A tear rolled down his cheek and Patryck pulled a chair next to the bed. The man put a hand on the uninjured part of Tord's back and leaned on Paul, attempting to comfort them both.

A few minutes of horrible pain passed and Paul pulled back. He sighed and rested his hand on Tord's head. "I am sorry, uh, Tord," he mumbled. "Um, about that. I heard it's... bad to bind with bandages, and we won't let you do it anymore." Paul glanced at Patryck, who wouldn't look at Tord.

"What are you talking about?" Tord growled. "What makes you think you can just tell me what I can and can't do? _I'm_ the Red Leader, and _I'm_ the one who makes decisions!" He had stood up, pretending he wasn't five feet tall and giving Paul and Patryck a deadly glare. "It's none of your business what I do with all this-" he gestured to his chest "-and I'll bind how I please!" Tord stepped forward. "Get out of here, both of you!"

____Paul knew not to argue and backed out of the room. Patryck, however, tried to speak to Tord and was cut off by a swift kick to the shin. He nodded and walked out the door as well. Tord sat down on his bed and put his head in his hands. He choked back a sob and shoved a pillow in his face. Why did Paul have to pry? And why did Patryck have to go along with it? And why did they have to care so much about him?_ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> you can tell I wrote this on my phone bc of how short it is


End file.
